


When there's no one left to pawn

by bluebells



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Lucifer's Cage, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-16
Updated: 2011-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-27 10:04:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebells/pseuds/bluebells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is gone, but then a demon named Bela leaves Adam a gift through the cage bars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When there's no one left to pawn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyknightanka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyknightanka/gifts).



> Written for ladyknightanka in the holidays of 2010.

Her name is Bela and she beckons to him from between the bars.

Adam goes because her eyes are so, so blue and when he’s close enough, her smooth hands settle on his shoulders. Her smile is apologetic, fingers trailing to his collarbone.

“Your brothers would have done this for me,” Bela says.

The blue of her eyes is swallowed by black and Adam feels the thread of metal too late.

It’s quick, like she’s signing her name over his heart and though he doesn’t know what she’s done, there’s heat at his back and then the fury of two archangels roars in his ears.

Bela doesn’t even scream when she goes up in flames.

He’s half-expecting it when Michael thrusts him away from the bars and Lucifer's grace winds around him, pulling him back to the cage’s dark core. He’s grown accustomed to the way they yank and shove, forgetting that Adam’s fragile or mortal because the tears in his flesh reform in this place out of time.

The ashes of Bela’s soul drift up and away on the wind of fire to that dot of light in the black sky. She’s beautiful.

Adam's skin blisters and cracks where Lucifer holds him. His whole body shudders when the devil sears a path of ice up behind his ear, like the slice of a knife with a hiss of frost. Adam thought he would become desensitised to the pain after time, falling numb to Lucifer’s resentment Adam wasn’t a vessel that had ever said ‘yes’ to him.

Lucifer couldn’t use him, unlike Michael.

Adam almost doesn’t mind those rare times Michael possesses him because, when he fights against Lucifer, it’s like being cut through his clothes instead of straight to the flesh.

Adam’s eyes have adjusted to the glare of their grace, but he still shuts his eyes when Michael crashes against him. Nobody ever wants to see the blow before it lands. He groans as the muscles in his neck reknit and he waits for the next hit or for the fire in his lungs when Michael spills into his body, but it never comes and Lucifer only squeezes him tighter.

There’s a moment of stillness, a tremble goes through the cage and Michael tips Adam’s head back, grace curling like a hand in his hair. Adam breathes against the fire of Michael’s other hand when it hovers at his lips, hesitant.

He knows something’s wrong when Lucifer loosens his hold.

Michael surges against him for what will be the first in many failed attempts to retake Adam’s skin.

Over his heart, the lines of Bela’s sigil glow.

-*-

It’s maybe ten years later when Adam falls to his knees and Michael turns on Lucifer instead.

Lightning streaks in the sky of the cage and Adam crawls towards the bars. A hellhound snarls on the other side, curled low like it’s poised to strike, but Adam just flops on his back when it barks, wild at the scent of the blood drying over his heart.

The hellhound sounds like church bells in comparison to the storm above his head.

The angels had tried everything to cut, burn, or rip the sigil out of skin, but every time he healed, there it was: Bela’s gift to him. Michael can’t possess Adam anymore and he doesn’t know what good it would have done, but Michael clearly isn’t a guy who’s used to being denied.

Adam releases a long sigh under the light show of the angels’ battle. It’s the first respite he’s had in years; it’s almost calming. The heat, electricity and concussive force of every clash ebb against him like a wave of water and sparks.

Michael is a lance of white-gold intent forcing his way through Lucifer’s obstacles, he regroups quickly and he always strikes back first.

Lucifer hardly looks like he’s trying, but he evades well. The longer Adam watches, the more he realises Lucifer only lands a blow when Michael gets too close. He throws another net of ice over his brother, a cage within a cage before Lucifer’s blue-grey entity retreats. Michael gives chase and it starts all over again.

It’s as though Lucifer doesn’t want to fight. Well, Adam has no sympathy for the bastard that gave him a spiteful ice burn, but he knows what it’s like to have Michael after you.

Better Lucifer than him.

-*-

He doesn’t realise he’s fallen asleep until cold curls around his ankle.

Lucifer lets go when Adam thrashes awake and, fuck, he thinks that’s the first time he’s ever fallen asleep in the cage. He didn’t know that was possible.

Michael is circling over their heads like some disembodied shark of light.

Looks like they finally got tired of trying to kill each other.

 _What’s your name?_

Adam blinks at the soundless voice and stares at Lucifer, too surprised to answer. But then Lucifer swirls, grace reforming into something remarkably like flesh and when he brushes Adam’s foot, he feels solid.

The devil looks him over with soft, blue-grey eyes. Sparks shower behind him when Michael brushes the bars.

“I’m Lucifer. You’re Sam’s brother, right?”

Sam, the jailbreaker. Adam tries not to remember he used to have company, it hurt too much.

Michael spills to the ground and Adam gapes when he also reforms as human with dark hair and serious eyes, his mouth pressed in a thin line of anger. He’s scarier wearing a human expression and Adam pulls his knees up, shifting back on his hands when that dark look narrows at him.

“Answer him,” Michael orders, voice even. Old.

“Michael,” Lucifer warns.

Adam glances between them, why hadn’t they torn into him yet? What the hell was going on?

“Adam. I – I’m Adam,” His voice cracks and the way the angels look at each other makes him nervous enough to feel sick.

Lucifer’s eyebrows raise in a question like, _well?_ It could be Adam’s imagination that the lines of Michael’s scowl suddenly don’t look so deep.

There’s no way out of this cage and Adam’s always known, but it hits him fresh when Michael releases a long breath and sinks down to his knees beside him. The cage is quiet for the first time since they fell in. Eventually, Michael leans forward and traces something on the ground in the dark.

"This is our language," Michael says, quietly and leans back, "Michael."

But when he says it, the sound slurs, thick, like a rush of wind or water in Adam's ears and it doesn't sound the way it always has before. It's Michael's true name. Adam's head feels like it's spinning. The symbols flare at Adam's thigh and before he realises it, Lucifer's doing the same, three characters long. They burn blue.

"Lucifer," the devil says (fuck, he's smiling), and Adam gets it.

He just hopes he isn't wrong. He hopes this is their olive branch. His hand shakes when he writes his name in the dark between theirs.

 _Adam._

Lucifer hums interest, tracing the edges of the short and uneven letters when they unexpectedly glow soft, pale gold.

Michael's staring at his name, expression unreadable.

Adam looks between them and sucks in a breath.

"Either of you ever played tic-tac-toe?"


End file.
